


Welcome to the Stage

by ArchOfImagine



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Jus in Bello Convention, M/M, Married Jensen/Misha, Panty Kink, Sex Toys, Slight public humiliation, bottom!misha, top!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the first convention in Rome since Jensen and Misha’s marriage the summer before and their relationship was subsequently made public. Despite the fact that they had been dating for almost five years, they hadn’t wanted the fans to know until they were married — and that had taken a lot longer than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Stage

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started as an a/b/o fic. About a week ago, after avoiding writing the ending for like two months, I decided a/b/o is a lot harder than I ever expected. In order to get it posted on time, that idea got thrown out the window and a new one was developed. 
> 
> Thanks to [nonexistenz](http://nonexistenz.tumblr.com/post/112252265777) for doing the lovely art. Written for the SPNKinkBigBang over on tumblr. :)

**\--- May 2015 ---**

The Jus In Bello Convention was always a shining light at the end of a tunnel. It meant that filming was done for another season and they could have a nice vacation in Rome before doing whatever they wanted for the summer. Misha waited anxiously for that week, even if he tried to act natural.

“Mish, you’re doing that thing with your feet again.”

He looked to the seat next to his and glared at his husband. “It’s not my fault that the flight to Rome is the longest fucking thing ever.”

Jensen snorted before focusing back on the game he was playing on his iPad. 

Fuck him!

“Maybe I should go sit by Rich. My toe tapping doesn’t _bother_ him.”

His husband didn’t even blink at the threat, just kept tapping on the screen before him. Asshole.

Misha managed to distract himself with a book for another ten minutes before he gave up and slammed it closed. “Hate this book,” he mumbled.

“Just six more hours....” Jensen reminded him.

“I’m going to go insane.”

“I’m not fucking you in the bathroom.”

“Why _not_?” he pouted.

Jensen snorted. “Because we tried that once and I ended up with a concussion.”

\---

They arrived in Rome on Wednesday, even though all of the convention ceremonies wouldn’t begin until Friday morning. No one pouted about the extra days of vacation in Italy.

Of course, as soon as they arrived Misha was dragging the entire group to his favorite Italian restaurant and pigging out on all things pasta and cheese. Jensen watched his husband in amusement and tried without luck to steal a bite off of Misha’s plate. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share?”

Misha stuck his tongue out at Jensen. 

Shaking his head, Jensen leaned forward and kissed just beneath Misha’s ear. “If you slow down on the manicotti, maybe you won’t feel too full for sexy times later.”

It was a whisper — a promise of their usual routine on the first night in Rome. Well… their first night in any new hotel room. They had to christen every bed.

Misha gave him a very calculated look before slowly sliding his plate towards Jensen. “Will you finish this for me?”

\---

It was the first convention in Rome since Jensen and Misha’s marriage the summer before and their relationship was subsequently made public. Despite the fact that they had been dating for almost five years, they hadn’t wanted the fans to know until they were married — and that had taken a lot longer than expected.

Because of the fans’ renewed excitement about Jensen and Misha, a majority of the questions he fielded were about their relationship.

Everything from ‘Does Jensen have any habits that drive you nuts’ to ‘How has your relationship changed things on set?’

Since Jensen was Misha’s favorite topic, he answered every question with a witty tale and a smile. Before he knew it, his forty-five minutes were up and he was passing off the microphone to the next guest. 

Even though he didn’t have to be on stage again that day, Jensen was waiting for him just behind the curtain. Misha walked five feet down the back hallway with him, before he pulled his husband into a nearby alcove. “I missed you,” he confessed, pressing Jensen back against the wall and kissing him. 

Jensen let the kiss happen, his hands tugging at the front of Misha’s shirt. When they finally broke apart, he shook his head with a smirk. “We were barely apart for three hours.” Before Misha’s panel, he had been tucked away in a separate room doing photo ops with fans.

“Just let me have my needy newlywed moment.”

His husband rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Come on, if we don’t hurry we’ll be late for dinner.”

\---

“For some fans the announcement of your wedding was _not_ a surprise. My question is: when can we expect an announcement about Cockles babies?”

Misha laughed at the fan’s question. “Cockles?” He turned to look at his husband sitting next to him. “Did she just call our future children ‘cockles’? Am I missing a translation here?”

Jensen smirked, holding Misha’s gaze. “Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t ask who had the bigger cockles.” The crowd gasped, before erupting in laughter and applause. Jensen turned to the audience and winked.

“Oh, stop the prancing.” Misha reached out and slapped the back of his husband’s head lightly. “Focus. Stop thinking about your cockles in front of our fans.” He shook his head and looked back at the fan waiting patiently for an answer to her question. “I’m sorry — what did you ask? When are we going to have clam babies?”

“Wait a minute,” Jensen interrupted. “I don’t want a clam baby. You didn’t tell me you were part clam, Mish.”

Misha frowned. “Do clams have babies?”

“Cockles might,” Jensen offered.

The fan laughed nervously from behind the microphone. “I’m not getting an answer, am I?”

“Sure you are.” Jensen gave the girl a winning smile and finally answered her question. “I can without a doubt — one hundred percent guarantee — that Mish and I will _not_ be having any clam babies.”

“Ehhh,” Misha swayed his head back and forth in a ‘maybe’ fashion. “Let’s go with ninety-eight percent.”

[](http://imgur.com/yoDiUNs)

They thanked the fan and moved on, but before the next question could be asked, Misha reached across to grab Jensen’s forearm, gaining his attention. “Hey, Jen, you don’t suppose that every question is going to be about our marriage, do you?”

Jensen snorted, raising the microphone back up to answer. “Lord, I hope not. Eventually we’ll start running out of nice things to say and have to discuss your random sock collection.”

“Hey! I thought you liked my socks.”

The crowd started to laugh again and Jensen took the moment of distraction to lean over and whisper in his husband’s ear. “Not as much as I like your cockles.”

The next few questions passed by in a blur and the fans seemed to be genuinely enjoying the banter that they passed back and forth on stage. When they turned to the left side of the room for the next question, a young man stood at the microphone, greeted them both, and asked, “My partner and I are getting married in five months, do you have any advice for a happy marriage?”

Misha was prepared to offer another witty response, when Jensen cut him off by answering first.

“You know how they say ‘never go to bed angry’? Everyone tells you that — family, friends, your great-grandparents that have been married for seventy years.” Jensen smiled and Misha leaned forward to catch the way his husband’s green eyes lit up as he spoke. “They tell you that because it’s true. If you ignore your own hurt feelings they’re just going to fester up and boil over. Pretty soon you’re so angry you can’t even remember the original argument.” He motioned next to him. “Mish and I have a rule at our house. We call it the ten-five-five rule. When something makes us angry, we take ten minutes to ourselves to calm down and think about why we are angry. Then we each get five minutes to discuss our feelings. The last five minutes is for coming up with a solution that we both agree on. And you want to know the truth? More often than not we don’t make it past the first ten minutes. When we step back and think about why we’re angry — suddenly it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”

Applause broke out in the room and Misha grinned, reminded of why he first fell for Jensen. He waited a moment for the crowd to die back down, before looking over to the fan adding his own response to the question. “Also, we usually realize that the problem is Jared.”

“Right.” Jensen laughed. “So we spend the next ten minutes coming up with a plan to get back at Jared.”

\---

It was absolutely no secret that Misha was a hilarious drunk. Everyone knew it. Generally, Jensen would cut his husband off, making sure to prevent anything permanently damaging from happening.

Unfortunately on this particular evening, Jensen had drunk as much wine as his husband and there was no way he was level-headed enough to keep Misha from looking like an idiot. What was the point when he could continue sitting at the large table with all of his castmates and watch Misha dancing with strangers on the dance floor?

His husband had _moves_ and Jensen wished he was brave enough to get up and join the other man. Even with alcohol flowing through his veins, though, he still didn’t have the nerve.

Finally Misha stumbled back to the table, looking more than a little debauched with his hair all askew and his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Instead of sitting back down next to Jensen, Misha dropped down directly onto his lap with an exhausted ‘huff’ of breath.

It was unusual to get to have such public displays of affection — for so long they had kept their relationship hidden behind closed doors — but Jensen was _not_ going to complain. He wrapped his arms around the older man and leaned forward to place a few kisses along Misha’s sweaty neck. 

“Having fun?” he asked, brushing a hand down and back up beneath Misha’s shirt. 

Misha ‘hmm’d’ and mused, “Those girls like me better than you. Said I’m their favorite on the show.”

“You were dancing with fans?” Jared asked from across the table. He was watching them both with a smirk on his face, shaking his head at Misha’s antics. 

Misha looked over at Jared and nodded. “They like me better than you, too.”

“Probably because you were dancing with them. I bet if Jensen and I walked over there, they couldn’t even remember your name.”

“Lies.” Misha turned his focus on Jensen. “Do you think you’re more popular than me, Jen?”

The entire table seemed to be looking at them, waiting to see how Jensen would answer the question without causing issues in his marriage. “I think it depends on the crowd. Sometimes we go places and no one has any idea who I am, but they know about you and your craziness.”

Misha pouted, “So you’re saying if I am more popular, it’s only because I’m _crazy_.” 

He started to stand up, but Jensen held him still. “Not _crazy_ crazy. Just… special.” Jensen was way too drunk to try and have such a conversation in front of a table full of their closest friends. He knew what he was trying to say, but the words weren’t coming out right. “You know what I mean, Mish.”

“Sure. Of course. I think I’m ready to go back now.” Misha looked a lot more sober than he had a few minutes prior, as he shoved Jensen’s touch away and stood. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and made his way through the crowded exit. 

The table let out a collective ‘oooh’ as Jensen shook his head and glared across the table at Jared. “Thanks for that shit, man.”

Jared held up his hands and shook his head. “How was any of that my fault?”

\---

The speed of Italian cabs meant that by the time Jensen finally stepped outside, his husband was no where in sight. He checked with a few people to make sure that Misha really had gotten into a cab - it wouldn’t be the first time Misha tried walking home while upset and drunk - before going back into to tell the group that he was heading out as well.

When he got back to the hotel forty minutes later, he remembered that he had entrusted the room key with his husband. _Damn it._ There was no doubt in his mind that Misha would be stubborn and not want to let him in, unfortunately. He stopped at the front desk and convinced the woman there to issue another card — with maybe a little bit of flirting on his part.

Once he got upstairs, he went to their room and slipped inside without even knocking. The bathroom door was shut, and the rest of the room was empty, so Jensen leaned against the door frame and knocked on the bathroom door. “Mish?”

It took a few long moments before there was an answer. “I’m fine.”

“Can I come in?”

He expected the answer to be no. Instead, Misha said softly, “It’s unlocked.”

He stepped into the bathroom and wasn’t surprised to see the other man relaxed back in the large bathtub. They had already tested out the space two days prior when Misha had ridden Jensen so hard the whole bathroom floor had gotten covered in sloshing water. 

Jensen took a deep breath, inhaling the scent in the air. “You used the lavender, I see.”

“I wanted to relax.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry, Mish.” He had sobered up enough to know that what he had said at the bar had obviously really hurt Misha without him intending for it to. He leaned against the large vanity and watched Misha sinking lower into the steaming water. “You know I can’t focus to answer questions right when I’m drunk.”

“They haven’t called about my contract,” his husband mumbled. “Even still.”

“They will.”

“I just—”

Jensen moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the tub. “I know. And me humiliating you in front of our friends like that didn’t help. Let me do something to make it up to you.”

Misha snorted, brushing off the comment. Jensen pressed on — he knew that there had to be something he could do to prove he was wrong.

\---

Sundays at JIBCon were very busy for Jensen. He had his solo panel, plus a panel with Jared, and then a day’s worth of signing autographs and taking photos.

In the light of morning, Misha still had a bit of melancholy washing over him, so Jensen put his plan into action without telling his husband. He knew it would work — it combined Misha’s two favorite things (Jensen and silky panties) with the add benefit of a bit of Jensen publicly putting himself out there to be humiliated if anything went wrong.

What he didn’t plan on was the panties — bright red and actually belonging to Misha — to fit so snugly that he had to readjust himself a thousand times throughout the day. 

He also had some serious chafing happening between his legs.

Before he went on stage for his final panel, he grabbed his grumpy husband and pulled him into a nearby bathroom. When the door was locked securely, Jensen kissed Misha quickly and smiled. “I only have a minute, but I wanted you to know something.”

“That being?”

Jensen stepped back far enough to unbutton his jeans. When he pressed closer again, he kissed Misha’s neck and guided his hand to the edge of the pants. “Feel for yourself.”

Misha hesitated for a moment, before pushing his hand beneath the waistband and brushing it over Jensen’s satin-covered cock. With his lips on Misha’s neck, Jensen could literally _feel_ the intake of breath.

“Jen.”

“I’ve been wearing them all day. After my last panel, I want you to take me upstairs and very gently take them off to have your way with me. Deal?” Misha nodded and Jensen claimed his lips in another kiss. “I am sorry for last night. It doesn’t matter how popular you are to the rest of the world, though, because you’re the only person I care about. I’m your _number one_ fan.”

“Thanks,” Misha whispered. He squeezed Jensen’s half hard cock before pulling his hand free and buttoning Jensen’s pants back up. “Go. Do your thing. I’ll be waiting in our room.”

\---

They made him dance in the final panel. Jensen was fairly certain that one of his balls had slipped free of the panties after _that._

By the time he got back upstairs, he wanted to spend a good twelve hours completely naked. Everything felt too tight and too scratchy.

He slid the keycard in the door and was pulling his shirt off before the door was even securely shut behind him. “Mish?”

Jensen rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. “Holy shit.”

On the bed, his husband was on all fours and facing away from Jensen. The older man was completely naked, and had one hand reached around behind himself as he twisted a slicked-up dildo in his ass. 

It was — by far — one of the hottest scenes Jensen had ever walked in on. So hot that everything else seemed to slip his mind as he just stood and _stared._

“You gonna join me, or just stand there with your jaw on the floor?”

The question brought Jensen back to reality, and he hurriedly went back to stripping his clothes off. He kicked his shoes aside and got rid of his pants so quickly that he almost tripped. Once he was out of everything except the panties, Misha called for him to stop. Jensen looked up and frowned. “What?”

“Push them down far enough to free your cock and balls, but leave them _on._ Then come over here and sit against the headboard.”

There was a complaint on the edge of his tongue. Something about how he was going to be dealing with rashes for a week if he didn’t get the size-too-small underwear off soon. But the heat of Misha’s gaze reminded him of why he had put the panties on in the first place. For Misha. 

He pushed the front of the underwear down and pulled his stiff cock and swollen balls free. He then did as instructed and positioned himself on the bed with his back against the headboard.

Misha leaned forward, not hesitating to wrap his lips around Jensen’s cock and get it good and slick with spit. When he pulled back, he smirked. “I decided that in favor of fucking you, I would ride that hard cock.”

“No complaints here,” Jensen mumbled. His eyes caught sight of Misha pulling the dildo from his own ass and Jensen could hold back a moan. “I should have never admitted how turned on that made me.”

“I would have found out anyways.” Misha crawled up the bed and straddled Jensen’s lap. “It’s not like you aren’t completely readable.” 

He was going to ask about lube and a condom, but didn’t have time before Misha was sliding down slowly over Jensen’s stiff cock. Apparently he had been stretching himself open on the fake cock for more than a few minutes. And it wasn’t like it was their first time having sex without a condom — usually they did it more for ease of cleanup than anything else.

Misha began rocking back and forth, barely moving along Jensen’s length. Whenever he tried to raise his hips up and get a little more friction — Misha would pin him back down and hold him there. He went for a new tactic — wrapping his hand around Misha’s swollen cock and stroking him in time with the slow pace. Just as he predicted, the pace started to quicken as Misha got closer and closer to the edge.

“I wanted to draw this out,” Misha mumbled, his hair slick with sweat. “But I couldn’t stop myself from brushing the dildo over my prostate. Felt so fucking _good._ ”

“Damn it, Mish,” Jensen growled. His husband was also fully aware of how much dirty talk turned him on. Flicking his wrist with each upstroke of Misha’s cock, he let his thumb find the sensitive tip and lightly brush over the leaking precome. “If you let me come,” he moaned, “I’ll handle cleanup.”

Two people could play the ‘I know what turns you on’ game. Misha wasn’t without his own kinks and turn-ons that Jensen knew well. Misha nodded his head with a breathy ‘yes’ and sped up his movements. A few strokes later and he was stiffening and crying out as his cock squirted stripes of come along Jensen’s bare chest. 

The pressure around his own cock was too much for him to even dream of denying and Jensen squeezed his own eyes shut as he came deep inside his husband.

They took a couple minutes to collect themselves and stabilize their breathing, before Misha rolled onto his back on the other side of the bed. “Okay. You made a deal.”

With a soft chuckle, Jensen rolled onto his stomach and kissed his way down Misha’s body. He placed a solitary kiss on the end of Misha’s softening cock, before hooking his legs up and over Jensen’s shoulders and leaning forward to lick around the rim of Misha’s red and leaking hole. He caught the flavor of his own come and felt his husband shudder at the sensation.

\---

The airport in Rome was packed with people. Jensen had his backpack slung over one shoulder, and clung to Misha’s hand as they made their way through the crowds. Clif and Jared were following somewhere behind, along with a couple other security folks hired on for the convention.

Suddenly, high-pitched screams sounded from a few feet away, and a group of girls were surrounding them. Jensen shifted his backpack, prepared to sign his name a dozen times.

Instead… the girls asked him to politely take a picture of them standing with Misha. He couldn’t help but laugh as he took the picture and handed it back to them. Once they were gone and Misha was back by his side, he leaned over to whisper in his husband’s ear.

“You’re right. They do love you more.”

“I told you so.” Misha winked. “Teach you to listen to Jared.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] Welcome to the Stage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446237) by [Nonexistenz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz)




End file.
